LOST SIGNAL by Samuel Barnhart

I’m walking home with Lost Signal under my arm from a rejection that is the crown jewel of all my rejections. I only made it five steps into the art director’s office before he practically threw me back out. Last week I managed eight steps. Huge clouds threaten rain, and I’m tempted to use the canvas for cover, but pity for it forces me to run beneath awnings with the painting tight against my sweater, protecting it from the approaching storm.

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